I'm a drunkard
I realised it was the only way I was going to control my anxiety ever since being scammed into becoming a consumer of sodium valproate in the late-2010s. It has possibly eaten 70% of my grey-matter. I don't really have a favourite poison, and with the realisation of the low quality of staff, neither do I have a place on an alcohol recovery programme; swearingly given recognition the individual perhaps a more Easterly coasted era in my chronological biography. Rasonism in Juche philosophy posits that anything is a stimulant, even dirt from the ground and metal atoms from loose industrial phelgae; one wouldn't be going wrong touching a European hand-alcohol, as it is basically enzymal pro-seretonergic. If you're particularly fat, alcohol will work the same way. This realization drove a bunch of such sympathetically-aligned individuals to suggest I should take up drinking in my mid-teens. I'm done with alcohol support services. They aren't bright. The excuse that I...